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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27687865">Juno Steel and the Sommelier's Secret</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/MostGeckcellent/pseuds/MostGeckcellent'>MostGeckcellent</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Penumbra Podcast</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Domestic, I didn't know wine fraud was a thing, Other, Wine, and it's perfect for Peter Nureyev, but it is, he would love this shit, wine fraud</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-07 02:01:51</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>674</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27687865</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/MostGeckcellent/pseuds/MostGeckcellent</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Peter Nureyev may have settled down, but that doesn't mean he's left his grifting ways behind him.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Peter Nureyev/Juno Steel</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>66</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Juno Steel and the Sommelier's Secret</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/KikiJ/gifts">KikiJ</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>For Kiki, who showed me the post that inspired this ficlet. Find the post here: https://rainaramsay.tumblr.com/post/631807162345242624/wait-whats-wine-forgery-how-would-you-fake</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Ah, do I detect notes of Neptunian Sweetgrass?” Peter Nureyev swirls his glass, a dark red wine inside. “A 2321 vintage, if I’m not mistaken?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You have a good nose,” a man in a painfully baroque suit smiles. I tune the rest of the conversation out - I’m here for the free wine. It’s Peter who’s really into this wine stuff. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They talk about grapes for a while, and growing conditions, and the climate in the southern region of Neptune in the spring of 2320, and who knows what else. I finish my glass of wine. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When we walk away, Peter leans in towards me, to whisper, “It’s a good thing after all I stayed up late reading, hm? Or I might not have known that detail about the mycelial infection that led to the development of the new mycocide, which changed the flavour slightly of the grapes grown only in that region. I hope he’ll end up buying, though - I wasn’t quite certain of the soil acidity of the 2117 underground colony’s vineyards - not for the Kallian variety specifically.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sure he’s still very impressed,” I assure him. I have been trying to keep up with it, especially when he cares so much, and finds it so interesting, but if I’m honest, most of this wine stuff sounds like bullshit to me. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“At the very least, I do think I’ve convinced that fellow from Pluto to buy a case of the 2373 vintage - not the most ambitious sale in terms of age, perhaps, but a rare vintage - only 35 bottles remain, you know.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, sure.” I’m looking forward to the next free sample. Somehow, when we’d decided to settle down after a few more years of traveling and adventure, I hadn’t expected to end up at fancy sommelier parties. I still think my favourite eight cred wine tastes better than most of these bullshit expensive bottles. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Luckily, Peter agrees with me - well, not on that. He says I have terrible taste in wine. But he also thinks most of these expensive, rare, exclusive vintages are bullshit. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I still have to try to sell the last one - the 2097,” Peter continues. “Luckily, that one’s old enough and rare enough I can almost guarantee that no one would even open it, let alone smell or taste it. I still tried to make sure it could pass - after all, no one’s tasted a real one in 150 years, so it really just has to taste sort of old. I should be able to get about a quarter of a million creds for it, though, if I can just convince someone it’s worth it.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>This is what I’m here to help with - Peter’s good at reading people, of course. He has to be, to be who he is. But I’m an (ex)-detective, and I’m supposed to be helping him pick the right marks. I’ve been paying attention to that, anyway, and I point Peter toward a person dressed in fur from some old-earth animal that probably went extinct a century ago. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Seras Pelican,” I murmur to Peter. “Their parents are rich, very indulgent. They like to have and show off all the nicest things, and they have to have the most expensive thing in the room. The people here don’t respect their expertise, though - they’re trying and struggling to break through. Maybe an impulsive purchase of an expensive wine will help them?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You are a wonder, darling,” Peter murmurs in my ear, and we exchange a brief kiss before we walk over. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know I am.” I hadn’t expected to learn about wine and grapes and barrels and dirt when we settled down, but I sure don’t mind separating people who are this disgustingly rich from their creds with some fake wine. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why, if it isn’t Seras Pelican,” Peter exclaims, putting on an awestruck look. “Why, I’m delighted to make your acquaintance.” </span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>We go home much, much richer than when we arrived, and I spend some of it on a bottle of my favourite eight cred wine. </span>
</p><p>
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</p>
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